


Therapy

by Qayin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Derek Hale Needs Therapy, F/M, M/M, Non-Con/Rape Outside of Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Therapist Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28824294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qayin/pseuds/Qayin
Summary: Derek doesn't need therapy. He’s perfectly fine. Except that his mother says that he’s not; and even though Derek is a grown man he does what his alpha says. So he goes to therapy. And Derek’s biggest problem is that his new therapist is hot.
Relationships: Braeden/Derek Hale, Derek Hale/Paige, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Jennifer Blake/Derek Hale, Kate Argent/Derek Hale
Comments: 10
Kudos: 207





	Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> This story have now a Russian translation (which is SO cool and I'm screaming about it!) that can be found at ficbook.net/readfic/10412254 so if you read Russian please check it out! Thanks Amarente for asking and translating!

Derek doesn't need therapy. He’s perfectly fine. Except that his mother says that he’s not; and even though Derek is a grown man he does what his alpha says. So he goes to therapy. 

And Derek’s biggest problem is that his new therapist is hot. 

Now, Derek wouldn’t say that he had a particular type, and if he did, dr Stilinski -  _ call me Stiles _ \- wouldn’t be his type. Derek liked badasses; even though they were certainly not good for him. Kate Argent, Braeden… they had been hard, lethal. And yes, perhaps there had been a softness to Paige and Jennifer Blake, and Derek had liked how they made him feel like it was his job to protect them.  _ Call me Stiles _ didn’t have the badassery of Kate and Braeden, nor the softness and vulnerability of Paige and Jennifer. 

He was kind of lanky, but obviously worked out. Slender muscles underneath a graphic tee and a plaid shirt. Hipster glasses and ripped jeans. Not Derek’s type. At least that was what he thought until he sat down in the armchair opposite of  _ call me Stiles _ and had those warm brown eyes trailed on him. For a moment Derek was reminded of the way a strategist would observe a game. He felt kind of… exposed under  _ call me Stiles’ _ look. 

“So, Derek,” says  _ call me Stiles _ brightly. “How can I help you?” 

“I’m fine,” Derek says and shrugs.  _ Call me Stiles _ looks at him, then smiles and copies Derek’s shrug. 

“Excellent,” he says and put down his notebook. “Therapy successful!” 

Derek frowns.  _ Call me Stiles  _ clasps his hands and continues to smile. It kind of pisses Derek off. He’s silent for a moment, just feeling the heavy gaze of  _ call me Stiles, _ then he grimaces. 

“I have… relationship issues.” Derek grits out.  _ Call me Stiles’ _ smile doesn’t change, but he tilts his head in a sort of  _ go-on _ motion. He doesn’t know how much he should or could say to  _ call me Stiles, _ but then again, his mother wouldn’t have sent him to this office if he wasn’t reliable, so Derek sighs. “I recently broke up with my girlfriend, Braeden.” 

He sees Braeden in front of him, kicking him in the chest before she tries to spear him with an axe. 

“It did not go over well.” 

“Breakups can be hard,”  _ call me Stiles _ says agreeably. Derek snorts. 

‘Yeah, no kidding,’ he wants to say. Braeden is just the last of a long line of bad breakups. At least three out of the four serious ones have resulted in his girlfriend trying to kill him. Derek is practically a walking disaster. 

The office falls into silence.  _ Call me Stiles _ shifts comfortably in his seat and smiles sympathetically at him. 

He’s not sure what he’s gotten out of the hour once it’s done, but  _ call me Stiles  _ book him in the same time next week, and at least going will get his mom off his back. 

“See you,”  _ call me Stiles _ says chipperly as he lets him out of his office. Derek doesn’t even say goodbye. 

* * *

“So, what was it that drew you to Paige to begin with?” Stiles asks. They’re sitting in the armchairs and tossing a lacrosse ball between them. Apparently Stiles used to play on scholarship through college. 

Derek shrugs, catches the ball, gives it a little squeeze and tosses it back to Stiles. “I don’t know, she was cute. Kind of quiet, was serious about her music.” 

“And you liked that.” Stiles says. Derek nods. 

“All my friends were jocks; it was all parties and playing and being a teenager, I guess.” he says. “Paige was…”

Derek stops and sighs. “It’s gonna sound so stupid, but I felt like Paige was different.”

“Why would that sound stupid?” Stiles asks kindly, then tosses the ball back harshly at Derek. Derek catches it easily. 

“Because that’s such a bullshit thing to say?” he says. “The whole ‘you’re not like other girls’.” 

Stiles crooks his head. “Was she like other girls?” 

“No,” Derek frowns. She hadn’t been. In high school, most girls had a crush on him. He had been the captain of the basketball team, and resulted in a lot of wins for their school. Paige hadn’t been impressed by that. Rather she had called him out on his bullshit. 

“There you go,” Stiles says and catches the ball from Derek with a smirk. Derek ignores him. 

“Well, it doesn’t really matter, because I didn’t give her a chance, though, did I?” Derek growls. “I decided for her, and that killed her.” 

“Yes it did,” Stiles says. His voice sounds serious, but kind. Derek kind of wants to punch him, but he refrains. “Paige didn’t get to decide to accept the bite, but that wasn’t your fault.

“You were fifteen, and Ennis was an adult alpha. And it doesn’t matter that you or Peter told Ennis to turn her,  _ Ennis  _ was the one who chose to do it.” Derek glances at Stiles, who looks at him kindly. He’s twirling the ball around in his hands as if he needs something to do as he speaks. “So Ennis is responsible for Paige’s death, not you.” 

“I killed her.” Derek murmurs. 

“You followed her instructions and saved her from an excruciating death.” Stiles says. “She was dead before you even agreed.” 

* * *

“Braeden didn’t take no for an answer, you know?” Derek says. Stiles has his chin in his hand, watching the jenga tower with an intense look on his face. His tongue is out. If Derek didn’t know better, he’d think Stiles isn’t paying attention. But of course Stiles is, because it’s Stiles. 

“I get it,” Stiles says and removes a piece. The tower tobbles a little, but remains standing. “You could relax, let Braeden take the wheel for a bit.” 

Derek hums thoughtfully. That was one word for it, he supposed. Braeden had found him in a bad place and she had helped him through it. He had been weak, and she had been strong. 

“She made me feel safe,” Derek says silently. Stiles looks up at him, waiting. “I wanted that.” 

Stiles smiles. Derek feels kind of safe. 

* * *

“I was just so mad about everything.” Derek says. They’re back to ball tossing. “The pack kept looking at me like I was a monster - and I am.” He holds up a hand to stop Stiles from arguing with him. “Paige died because of me, that - it may have been Ennis, but I was also responsible.” 

Stiles just nods and catches the ball. Derek grits his teeth. 

“She was older. Like, over twenty. She had a motorbike, and she made me feel like I wasn’t a total fuck-up.

“I hadn’t - I was a virgin, and she had all of this experience. And I did want to, you know, not be a virgin, and a fuck-up, and I thought it was cool that she was interested in me.” Stiles tosses the ball at Derek, who catches it and frowns. “And for a while it was cool. Lots of sex - I rarely went to school, but stayed with her… 

“But it was also -” he stops, scowls at the ball. “The more it happened, the worse it felt. Because I knew I couldn’t tell my parents about Kate, and she was - she could be mean. Like, scarily good at pushing just the right place where she knew it would cause the most damage.” 

Stiles hums and leans back in his chair. “You know, when I took criminology at Uni, we talked about why youths are an overrepresented group for criminal activity; such as drugs, vandalism - you name it.

“There’s a physiological reason for that. Teenagers haven’t fully developed yet. Their brains,  _ physically _ , haven’t matured yet, so they lack the full ability to critically think and assess risks. So, they get up to risky behaviour, without really realizing the damage that can cause.” 

Derek frowns deeper. Sees Kate push him down between her thighs, sees her slap him around and then convince him that it was him who should apologize. 

“The thing is,” Stiles continues. “Teenagers do a pretty good job putting themselves in dangerous situations all on their own. So if an adult comes in, one who knows how to manipulate kids who haven’t fully developed their critical thinking yet, of course that can result in catastrophic results. 

“Kate Argent was a predator. She manipulated you, took advantage of your emotional state, isolated you from your family, used your body against you. She made you her victim. And she knew very well on how to do that, because she was a psychopath, and you were just a means to an end for her. 

“And that’s not your fault. In no way are you responsible for what she did to you.” 

“She almost burned down my entire family.” Derek hisses. Stiles nods. 

“Yes,  _ she _ did.  _ Kate Argent _ almost burned down your house, and your family, and she would have done that with or without you. Because people with that kind of antisocial personality disorder, to that level - you weren’t a person to her, Derek.” 

“So what you’re saying is that I was an idiot teenager who got played.” 

“I’m saying that you were a kid, and she was an adult with psychopathic tendencies who from the moment she set eyes on you already had a plan.” 

“Great.” Derek scoffs. “That makes me feel like I'm in control.”

Stiles smiles then, a kind of mischievous smile and he tilts his head. “Do you like being in control?” 

Derek raises an eyebrow. Stiles’ grin widens. 

* * *

“Stiles?” Derek asks. The fundraiser to raise money for wolves without packs definitely wasn't the place where he thought he’d run into his therapist, but now that he has he wonders why that wouldn’t happen. Derek’s mom was the one who had directed him to Stiles’ office, obviously Stiles belonged in this life. 

Like now, when Stiles turns around from the guy he’s talking to and smiles widely at Derek and Derek’s mom.

“Derek, hi!” he says and reaches out to shake his hand, and it’s a little weird, only because Derek has never shook his hand before. Stiles turns to his mom after he’s shook Derek’s hand and smiles at her too. “Mrs Hale! So good to finally meet you.” 

“Dr Stilinski,” Talia says melodiously and shakes his hand. “Good to meet you too.” 

“Oh, this is Scott.” Stiles says and gestures to the man he’s with. 

“Scott?” Derek’s mother says and pins the man with one of her classic stares. “McCall?” 

Derek frowns as the man next to Stiles smiles and shakes his mother’s hand. He has this very charming, sweet kind of appearance and Derek hates him immediately. He hates him even more when he realizes that this is True Alpha Scott McCall, who is hosting the fundraiser. 

And it’s even worse when his mother abandons his side to talk with True Alpha Scott McCall, leaving Derek alone to the wolves. 

But before they can descend, Stiles takes hold of his arm and guides him over to the bar. 

“Do not leave me alone,” he says, urgently. “If I get left alone I start talking, and it’s sort of to keep me from having a panic attack, but sprouting random nonsense at people who are supposed to donate a lot of money is not a good idea.” 

“You, babble?” Derek asks, but he can see it. Stiles and he have a reporitire going in sessions, but before and after, Stiles is talking like he literally needs to do it to keep breathing. 

“Oh, very funny,” Stiles says and orders Jack Daniels.

“How do you know McCall?” Derek asks and takes the same. Stiles glances back to where McCall is entertaining Derek’s mom. 

“We grew up together,” Stiles says and takes a sip. “Why, how did you think I became the go-to therapist for werewolves?” 

“To be honest I just figured you found the most dangerous place you could put your nose in and made it your business.” 

Stiles laughs, a quick, contagious laugh and shakes his head. “Honestly? Not that far from the truth.” 

* * *

Derek finishes therapy. Even his mom agrees that he seems in a better spot now than he was. Derek feels better. Lighter. 

* * *

“Baby brother, I thought therapy was supposed to make you more well adjusted,” says Laura as Derek tosses a man through a wall. Derek growls and glares at her. 

“I am,” he says. Peter snorts.

“Maybe he needs to get laid,” Peter says. 

“Ew,” says Cora. 

Derek grits his teeth and pretends he isn’t thinking about Stiles. 

* * *

Derek lasts about four months before he appears at Stiles’ clinic, unannounced. He gets to wait in the waiting room, and Stiles leads a strawberry blonde woman out of his office, chatting excitedly with her. When he catches sight of Derek he stops and blinks for a moment. 

“Derek? I didn’t know you were coming?” 

The strawberry blonde woman looks between Derek and Stiles, then she pats his arm. “I’ll show myself out.” 

“Uh, yeah, bye Lydia -” Stiles looks back at Derek, then smiles. “Wanna come into my office?” 

Derek stands up and follows Stiles in. The office is exactly how he remembers it. Stiles is exactly how he remembers him. 

“Is everything okay?” Stiles asks and looks at him curiously. Derek doesn’t answer. Stiles fiddles a little, then he walks over to his desk and the little mini-fridge he keeps underneath it. “Do you want a soda?” 

“No thanks,” Derek says. He watches as Stiles picks forth a coke and takes a chug out of it. 

“So, what can I do for you, Derek?” Stiles asks and walks over to his seat. “Do you - want to start up sessions again? Because I can book an appointment -?” 

“No,” Derek says and shakes his head. He clears his throat. “I - uh, I was wondering if you want to, uh, go on a date. With me.” 

Stiles blinks, the soda can half raised to his lips. Derek can hear his heartbeat go haywire and a wave of nervousness and excitement hit his senses. Derek steadies his own heartbeat and waits. 

“I - oh.” Stiles says and lowers the can. Derek watches him swallow. “I don’t think that’s - a good idea.” 

Derek flinches. Stiles blinks. 

“It’s not because I don’t want to -” Stiles says quickly and gestures widely with his hands. “I mean, are you kidding, have you seen you?” 

Here Stiles makes a high-pitched screech and his eyes grow wide. 

“Oh, god, I should not have said that!” 

Derek furrows his eyebrows and watches him. Stiles laughs out a panicked giggle and shakes his head. 

“I mean - I just don’t think it’s a good idea, because you’re my patient, and that’s - that’s just not -” 

“Stiles, shut up.” Derek says. Stiles stills and snaps his mouth shut. “I like you. I’m not your patient anymore.” 

“I - I really can’t, Derek.” Stiles says and he actually sounds pained, like he’s regretting it tremendously. “It’s so,  _ so _ unethical and - it’s too soon, it’s been four months, and I - I can’t.” 

“What do you mean too soon?” Derek asks. Stiles winces. 

“I, uh, the ethical code concerning sexual involvement with former clients says two years of absolutely no involvement to ensure the autonomy of the client, so they’re not influenced by the - by the, the me. But it’s so sketchy, and just -” Stiles shakes his head. Derek watches him, then nods. 

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll come back in 20 months.” 

Stiles blinks. “I - what?” 

“I’ll come back in 20 months.” Derek repeats. “Then it’s gone two years since you treated me.” 

“I- no, that wasn’t what I -” Stiles stutters. 

“I’ll come back in 20 months.” Derek says, and leaves. 

* * *

After 20 months, Derek is kind of thinking that this is a bad idea, but that thought flies out of his head when he steps into the office and sees Stiles. 

Stiles doesn’t see him though. He’s sitting next to the receptionist, laughing about something. Derek hears the word Scott, and he assumes Stiles means True Alpha Scott McCall. Then Derek steps forth, and Stiles turns to look at him, and Derek sees a moment of shock, then disbelief, and then something like desire flashes past his face. 

Derek grins and Stiles frowns and shakes his head. 

“Oh, no, no, your son of a bitch, no!” Derek grins wider. Stiles shakes his head. “Nope! Get the hell out of that door and take your well-defined abs with you!” 

“It’s been two years,” Derek says and smirks. “So, go out on a date with me.” 

The receptionist glances between Derek and Stiles with wide eyes. Stiles shakes his head again, but he doesn’t look as determined as he did. Derek softens his smile. 

“One date, that’s all I ask.”

Stiles glances at the receptionist, grits his teeth and holds out a finger. “One - one date! Because you force me, and I’m fucking weak. 

“Kira, cancel my appointments, I’m getting my coat.”

And Stiles spins around and leaves back into his office in a flurry. Derek smiles and the receptionist, Kira, blinks after Stiles, then looks to Derek. He smiles at her. 

* * *

Dr Stilinski,  _ call me Stiles, _ isn’t Derek’s type. At least not on the surface. He isn’t a hard-boiled badass, nor is he vulnerable and sweet. Instead, he is somewhere in between. He’s snarky and kind of brutal. He doesn’t let people close that easily. 

So Derek feels proud that Stiles is letting him close. And he’s damn happy that his mother forced him to go to therapy. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


End file.
